


Crazed eyes and crashing skies

by Semphyst



Category: Splatoon
Genre: Character Death, Fights, Mental Instability, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Salmon Run (Splatoon)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:54:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29554530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Semphyst/pseuds/Semphyst
Summary: This is a story from a salmonid's point of view. It's basically what goes on behind the scenes.
Kudos: 8





	Crazed eyes and crashing skies

My heart pounded as the siren started. Another raid. I grabbed my rusted pan from the wall. Staring down at my fins, taking deep breaths. We would be fine. I was sure of it this time. Making my way down the line alongside my friends. My family. We walked past other survivors, their fins torn off their bodies, bloody gashes in their sides. I was assigned a squad, and waited to be deployed. Shaking, I stood there, hulking figures beside me. The newborns skittered around the floor, their spoons dragging behind them. I was lucky to have survived this long. Most of the younglings will die on their first raid. Deep breaths. Some of my fellow soldiers prepared to pilot their vehicles. Deep breaths. The flood gate opened, and my colleagues rushed through. My pan shook in my fins. We would be okay.

I watched in horror as the terrified squeaks of a newbie were silenced. A male inkling had stomped it out, its gooey remains dripping from his boot. An octoling approached me, their weapon at the ready. It was pointed directly at my chest. I froze. I couldn't move as their finger came down on the trigger. A scrapper pilot dashed to protect me, the mechanical whirs of their vehicle drowning out all other sound. "Get out of here!" I ran. I ran as fast as I could. I stood in the water, and shut my eyes as their vehicle came to a halt, and their screams of pain were quickly shut down. The octoling began chasing after me, so I dived back in. I don't know why it hurts so much to watch my friends die. It happens every day by now. It's all the bear's fault. Rumors pass through our ranks, about a tyrant called "The bear." The bear shows zero mercy, and is a ruthless killer fueled by its eternal lust for blood. He sends his workers to rip us apart, one by one, in order to steal our children. The ground shook as I sprinted as far away as I could. Once I reached the safety of a small cave, I dropped my pan and crumpled to the floor. Shivering, I tried to close my eyes. All I could see was the brutal slaughter of my everything around me. The pain I felt was excruciating. Back before the bear, we lived peacefully. We migrated every hundred years, voyaging across the world in order to find a home. It all changed when the bear appeared. It tore us to shreds. We all cower in fear, now. We fight so that maybe, just maybe, the children can have better lives. Deep down, all of us know that it isn't going to happen. It never will.

I only slept for half an hour before the alarm was sounded again. It blared in my ears as I picked my pan off the ground, and readied myself for battle. Nobody knew what ungodly hell the children went to once stolen. Whatever it was, we all felt terrified for them. I climbed my way out of the water to the ruins. Our special forces units were at the ready down below the water, preparing to emerge. The special forces were mainly dedicated for the younglings to get experience in battle while keeping them protected. They began to fail years ago. I took a breath before charging in. I swung my trusty pan. It had been with me for a year now, and never let me down. I saw fins being torn off of my comrades, their shrieking muffled by their jaws being ripped open. I managed to hit one of the raiders. Bobbers passed me, and two giants emerged for a split second to gulp down our enemies, only to explode into a pile of flesh and blood, spattered across the ground. It was sickening, watching them being massacred. I prepared to swing again, but just then, a searing pain pierced my chest. I looked down, and saw a hole there. Blood dripped out of it, and I collapsed. My ears rang as blurry figures approached me. I coughed, blood splattering my face. Orange gloves came closer. I knew this would happen someday. I bit down, in an attempt to silence my screams of pain. My body was being dissected, and all I could do was watch as blood poured out of me. Something was ripped out of me. The ringing in my ears became unbearable, and it all went black.


End file.
